


Sorcerer's Apprentice

by Ytteb



Series: Sorcerer [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-09-26 11:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Another way for Tony to meet Gibbs - the title gives a clue! Obviously AU and probably not to be taken seriously although there may be some angsty stuff.





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on, Tony,” said the older man, “It’s getting late and I have another meeting to get to.”

“Yes, Sir,” said the lad listlessly. He followed his companion down the path leading to the ordinary looking house.

The man didn’t bother knocking but walked straight in. Tony looked around the house, but it was as unexceptional as the outside. They walked through the kitchen and down a flight of steps until they reached a solid wooden door,

“Seer Morrow … and companion,” announced Morrow.

There was a brief pause and then they heard a well-oiled lock click and the door swung open noiselessly on equally well-oiled hinges. Morrow seemed to consider urging Tony to precede him but then decided to take the lead down yet another flight of steps.

A minute later, as they were still descending, Tony ventured to speak, “It’s a long way down … Sir.”

“Jethro’s basement is renowned. Although,” the Seer frowned, “It seems to have got even deeper since I was last here.”

Eventually they emerged into a large, dimly lit space. Tony noticed first that it was lined with wooden shelves which seemed to be full of books, tools and jars. There were also a number of pictures of ships which, as he looked closer, were constantly changing to reveal the underlying structure of the boats. He blinked in confusion and then noticed that a silver haired man sat at a large work bench seemingly engrossed in a piece of wood which lay before him.

“Master Jethro Gibbs, we seek admission to your halls,” said Seer Morrow formally.

“You are welcome,” came the equally formal reply, “And peace be on your sojourn.”

“Jethro,” said Morrow less formally, “Good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

“Has it?” asked Gibbs sceptically.

“Perhaps not,” acknowledged Morrow with a grin.

“Is this the boy?” asked Gibbs.

“It is. This is Anthony … although he prefers to be called Tony.”

Gibbs nodded and directed a sharp blue-eyed stare at the boy. Morrow nudged Tony who jumped slightly before saying,

“Greetings, Sir.”

“Don’t call me Sir,” directed Gibbs.

“No …” Tony trailed off as he realised he didn’t know what to call Gibbs.

“Do you know why you’re here?” asked Gibbs.

“Yes, Si- I am here so that you may teach me magic.”

“I don’t teach magic,” said Gibbs sharply.

“I don’t understand. Seer Morrow told me …”

“If you don’t have magic within you,” Gibbs leaned forward and jabbed a finger on Tony’s chest, “If you don’t have magic then I can’t teach you,” he looked across at the Seer, “Does he have magic?”

“Yes,” said Morrow simply.

Gibbs returned his attention to Tony, “You will learn to use and control the magic within you. Do you understand?”

Tony nodded.

“How old is he?” asked Gibbs.

“Fourteen.”

“Huh. Older than I’d expected.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not necessarily. May have learned some bad habits …” he directed another piercing stare at Tony who stared back. Tony was used to being told he had bad habits and was also used to adults talking about him as if he wasn’t there; he had developed a blank stare which served him well in such situations.

“You agree?” asked Morrow.

“I don’t go back on my word,” said Gibbs stiffly.

“Then we proceed?”

“Hey,” said Tony, deciding that perhaps the being talked over had gone on long enough, “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“What do you want to know?” asked Gibbs.

“Well … what happens now?”

“You agree to become my apprentice. For 1000 days.”

“And you teach me magic … I mean, I learn to use what is within me?” asked Tony.

“I don’t teach – you _learn_.” The blue-eyed stare was stern, and Tony swallowed anxiously.

The Seer put a hand on his shoulder, “Do you want to do this, Tony?” he asked gently.

“What happens if I don’t?”

“Then … then, I fear that you go back to where you came from.”

Tony looked stricken for a moment, “Then I guess I agree …”

“Excellent,” said Morrow briskly, “We’ll move to the ceremony.”

“The ceremony?” asked Tony with a return to anxiety.

“The binding of an apprentice to a master. Master Gibbs will undertake to give you food and shelter for 1000 days and to ensure that you have opportunities to learn …”

“And what do I have to do?”

“Everything I tell you to,” said Gibbs firmly.

Tony looked between Morrow and Gibbs and then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he appeared to have reached a decision.

“OK. Then let’s get it done. The Seer has other places to be.” There was something of a sigh in Tony’s voice as he spoke; he was used to being simply an item on someone’s agenda.

Gibbs produced a scroll of paper and waved his hand over it. The paper filled with words and a pen floated down from a shelf,

“Do you want to read it?” asked Morrow as he saw Tony look blankly at the document.

“Does it say what you said?” asked Tony. Morrow and Gibbs nodded. “Then I guess I trust you,” shrugged Tony. He took the pen and signed where Gibbs indicated. Gibbs and Morrow both signed as well.

“Now,” said Gibbs, “We need to clasp hands over the paper,” he stretched out his hand to Tony who, after a brief hesitation, took the hand. Morrow put his own hand over the clasped hands and a beam of light shone down on to the paper.

“That’s more binding than the signatures,” he explained to Tony, “_They_ can be faked or made under duress, but the spell will detect anything untoward in the hands.”

Tony nodded uncertainly leading Morrow to wonder if he had somehow planned to wriggle out of the agreement. He sighed with sorrow at the thought of the path which had led the young lad to Gibbs’ basement.

“Jethro is your Master now,” he announced, “I believe it would be appropriate for you to address him in that manner.”

“Yes, Sir and yes, Master,” said Tony with a bow.

“I must go. As Apprentice Anthony has said, I have somewhere else to be. Master Jethro Gibbs, I commend Apprentice Anthony to your care. Apprentice Anthony, I charge you to be obedient to your Master in all things.”

“Fair passage on all your journeys,” said Gibbs to the Seer.

“And a blessing on your endeavours,” replied Morrow, “And now, I suppose I had better begin to climb your dratted stairs!” He touched Tony on the shoulder once more and left.

Tony watched him go and then turned to face his new Master. He tried to look relaxed and unconcerned but felt his knees shaking.

“You’re mine now,” pronounced Gibbs.

The words sounded menacing but, oddly, Tony felt almost comforted by them. It had been a long time since he _was_ anyone’s.

“What do I do?” asked Tony.

“I told you – you do what I tell you.”

“And what are you telling me to do?” asked Tony with a hint of impatience.

“First we’ll eat. Then I will show where you are to sleep and then, tomorrow, we will begin.”

“OK,” said Tony cautiously, “Um, am I allowed to ask questions?”

“You just did.”

“Am I allowed to ask questions that you’ll answer?”

“I did answer.”

“Is everything going to be a riddle?” asked Tony in frustration.

“No,” said Gibbs deciding to take pity on his new apprentice, “You can ask questions, but I don’t guarantee to answer them.”

“Will you tell the truth?”

“Yes, I will. Will you?”

Tony hesitated, “I’ll try to. It’s not always easy.”

“Why isn’t it easy?”

Tony hesitated again, “Sometimes it is hard to know where truth lies,” he said with something of a defiant look towards Gibbs.

Gibbs nodded; he wondered if there was more to Tony than met the eye. He didn’t reply directly however but pointed Tony towards the shelves where dinner plates and bowls were stacked. Tony soon found out that the wooden worktable also served as their dining table. He sat expectantly, wondering what sort of food his new master would supply.

Tony was hungry and set to with relish, so it was not until they were halfway through the meal that it occurred to him that it was odd. They had started with some type of cold soup and then moved on to delicious steaks which were served with tomatoes, rice salad, egg mayonnaise, fish sticks and baked beans. The ice-cream served for dessert seemed ordinary enough until Tony detected that it had a distinct curry flavour. After a momentary hesitation he swallowed the mouthful he had taken and decided that it was odd but delicious.

Gibbs nodded when he saw Tony’s plate was clean but didn’t comment on the eccentricity of the food. “I’ll show where you’ll sleep,” he said and led the boy to a small room off the workroom. Tony noted that it had a bed and a desk and little else and he thought it looked as if it had not been used for some time. “There’s a bathroom through there,” Gibbs nodded towards a door. Oddly, when Tony opened the door and went in, he found that the bathroom appeared to be brand new.

“Go to bed now,” ordered Gibbs, “I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

Tony wanted to protest that it was too early for him to go to bed but a combination of tiredness and a suspicion that his protests would fall on completely deaf ears made him decide to conserve his energy for other fights. He soon tumbled into bed, expecting to spend a wakeful night as his overactive mind tried to make sense of what had happened but, in the event, he was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

XXXXXX

Breakfast (at what Tony thought was probably a very early hour) consisted of waffles with an unidentifiable jelly of some sort, toast and quails’ eggs. Gibbs also drank a large mug of coffee while giving Tony a choice of water or something which looked like blackcurrant juice but tasted of something completely different.

Tony braced himself when the meal ended, sure that he would now find out what being an apprentice involved.

“You watch and learn,” announced Gibbs.

“What? I mean, _what_ do I watch and learn?”

“When there are people here, you watch what I do and listen to what I say.”

“OK. And what do I do when there’s nobody here?” Somehow, Tony suspected there were few visitors to the strange basement.

“You read and learn the spell books.” Gibbs gestured to the bank of books on the shelves. He waved a hand and a book lifted itself gently from its place and came to hover in front of Gibbs. He gave a somewhat impatient signal, the book bobbed as if in apology and went to hover in front of Tony instead. “Take it,” ordered Gibbs.

Tony took the book, “Um, thank you,” he said. The book trembled for a moment as if surprised at being thanked but then stilled as Tony began to turn the pages.

“When you’re not listening and watching or reading the books, you’ll keep this room clean and tidy,” continued Gibbs, “I’ll show you how to keep it tidy later.”

Tony frowned as he wondered how difficult it would be to keep the room tidy.

“The Seer said you have magic,” said Gibbs.

“Yes, Master.”

“What magic have you controlled?”

“Not much.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I’ve only _deliberately_ done a paternity spell.”

“_Deliberately_?”

“There’s been other stuff that happened that people said happened because I’ve got magic in me.”

“Hmm. And why did you do the paternity spell?”

“I wanted to check who my father is.”

“It’s a complex charm,” observed Gibbs.

“It is?”

“Yes. Did it work? Did you control it successfully?”

“Maybe not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know it was difficult,” explained Tony. “So perhaps it didn’t work,” he looked surprisingly happy at the thought of possibly having failed.

“Why do you think it didn’t work?”

“The mist cleared to show a picture of my father … I mean, the person I’ve been told is my father.”

“Then it worked,” said Gibbs cautiously.

“I guess,” said Tony discontentedly, “I guess I hoped it wasn’t true.”

Gibbs blinked at this response but seemed to hear something from upstairs, “Clear the breakfast stuff away,” he ordered, “We have a visitor.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony heard the huffing and puffing of someone laboriously coming down the steps and then saw an elderly woman enter the basement. She gasped a little as she said,

“I seek admission to your halls.”

“You are welcome, and peace be on your sojourn.”

“I swear those steps get steeper every time,” she complained as she waved a hand in front of her face to try and cool down.

A gesture from Gibbs had Tony hasten to pull out a chair for the visitor.

“Thank you, young man. So, you’ve got yourself a helper, Master Gibbs.”

“Apprentice,” corrected Tony. He wasn’t sure why it made a difference, but it did.

The woman cackled with laughter, “Then you can’t get away. Always knew there were no flies on you, Master Gibbs.”

Gibbs stared back but didn’t rise to the dig, “What do you want, _Peaseblossom_?”

Tony felt his mouth fall open at the notion that the rather large, shambolic woman had the delicate name of Peaseblossom. He quickly shut it again as he guessed such rudeness would not be welcome.

“Always know when I’ve annoyed you, Jethro when you call me that,” she sighed and turned to Tony, “My parents had hopes that I would be some sort of fragile flower, an ornament to society …” she cackled again, “But I was always more of an elephant than a fairy … so, when I got older, I started calling myself Patricia. That’s what my friends call me,” she looked uncertainly at Gibbs.

The tiniest hint of a smile twitched at Gibbs’s mouth, “So, _Patty,_ what can I … we … do for you?”

Patty’s face split into an unexpectedly beautiful smile, “I’m going to visit my son … Dan,” she explained to Tony, “In Australia. But you know what my sense of direction is like …” She turned to Tony again, apparently liking an additional audience, “I took a trip to Antarctica once but ended up in the Arctic. Think I went right instead of left somewhere. It was a shame; I’d always wanted to see a penguin …”

“And it took fifteen people to find you,” said Gibbs severely.

“I know, I know. And I’ve learned my lesson. That’s why I’m here – to ask you for an enhanced transportation charm.”

“Apprentice Tony,” said Gibbs, “Bring me the blue book at the end of the third shelf.”

“Don’t you know the charm?” asked Patty anxiously.

“Yes. But my apprentice needs to learn. And he also needs to be _listening _and jumping to when I tell him to do something.”

“Sorry, Master,” said Tony hastily.

“Ooh,” said Patty, “Don’t apologise.”

“What?” asked Tony.

“He doesn’t like it,” she said conspiratorially, “Just make sure you do it right next time.”

Tony nodded in a bewildered manner and hurried over to the shelves. He reached up to the book and tried to take it from the shelf, but it wouldn’t move. He tried again but, although it trembled, it didn’t move. “_Please_?” he whispered, remembering how the other book had responded to being thanked. The book shook a little but didn’t move.

“Bah,” said Gibbs. He waved a hand and the book gracefully fell into Tony’s hand. 

“Thank you,” said Tony softly; he had an inkling that getting the books on his side would be a good idea.

At a gesture from Gibbs, Tony laid the book on the table. “Find the … “he paused and turned to Patty, “Air or water?”

“Air, please. Otherwise I’ll be needing a seasickness charm as well.”

“Apprentice Tony, find the Arrow Aviation Amulet Creator.”

Tony looked aghast: the book had many pages and, if it didn’t have an index or table of contents, he was in trouble. He played for time, “The Arrow Aviation Amulet Creator?” He looked down in surprise as he heard a rustling of pages and saw that the book was obligingly turning its own pages; when it stopped, he saw that the page had a picture of an aeroplane, an arrow and smiling passengers. “Thank you,” he said in relief.

“Hmm, he’s got the books working for him already,” noted Patty.

There was the faintest nod from Gibbs which Tony decided to take as approval. Gibbs cast a cursory look at the page, waved his hand and produced a blue stone. “Here you are. Just tell it where you want to go on the day, and it will get you there. It should last you for ten trips. Is that enough?”

Patty nodded, “That’s fine. Thank you,” she rummaged in her purse and Tony guessed that she was looking for money to pay his master. As he watched, she produced some slab bacon, a tin of custard powder and a bag of walnuts in their shells.

Gibbs nodded to Tony to take the offerings and put them on the shelves.

“Fair passage on all your journeys,” said Gibbs to Patty. The consultation was clearly over.

“I hope so,” said Patty a little gloomily but then she remembered the correct response, “And a blessing on all that you aspire to.”

She bowed to Gibbs and Tony and made her panting departure.

Tony gazed at Gibbs with huge eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“There’s a cold store for the bacon,” was all the explanation he got as Gibbs jerked his head to show where it was.

Tony hurried to obey and then, at a pointed look from his master, put the book back. He took care to give it a gentle pat as he returned it to its place. There was a faint hum of pleasure from the bookshelves.

Tony’s assumption that there would be few visitors to the basement turned out to be completely wrong. After Patty’s departure there was a steady stream of supplicants wanting Master Gibbs’ advice or assistance. As directed, Tony listened and learned – which mostly involved putting out chairs for the visitors, retrieving books as required and then stowing away the ‘payments’ made for Gibbs’s advice. Tony decided that he understood why the meals were odd; he suspected that Gibbs simply ate what he was supplied with. Only one client paid with money, the rest paid with food or fuel. By midday Gibbs had received a chicken, two loaves of bread, a fruit cake, a carton of milk, two jars of marmalade, six lettuces, a bag of tomatoes, a pile of turnip greens, a can of kerosene and two sacks of kindling. Gibbs had accepted all the offerings without comment and Tony wondered in what combination they would be eating all this.

The midday meal was almost conventional, consisting of bread, an unidentifiable but tasty soup, cheese and apples. Gibbs finished his meal and then stood before the books; he waved his hand over all but the topmost row, “They’ll come for you now,” he announced.

“What about those at the top?” asked Tony.

“No. They won’t come. Not yet.” He looked knowingly at Tony, “Don’t get itchy fingers. They’re not that interesting.”

Tony looked up as he heard a whine from the top shelf, “I think you offended them.”

“You heard that?”

“Yes. Why, should I not have been listening?”

This turned out to be a question Gibbs wasn’t going to answer, “They’re too advanced at the moment,” he said, “And I don’t use them much.”

Tony heard the sad sigh, “I think they’d like to be used.”

“Huh. We’ll see. And we’ve got another visitor. Hop to.”

The books were helpful to Tony all the long afternoon – each book Gibbs required jiggled up and down so Tony knew which one to pick and then returned of its own volition to its place when no longer required. Tony suspected that his master was only looking at the books to give him practice and that the books enjoyed being used for a change.

Finally, Gibbs seemed to decide that he was closed to visitors and he directed his attention to the worktable which, to Tony’s eyes, looked clean and tidy.

“Last job for today. Clean the table.”

Tony was surprised how tired he was after _looking and learning_ all day, but he willingly looked for a cloth to wipe the table down. Gibbs stopped him,

“Not like that.”

“Master?”

“I’ve been casting spells and charms all day. There will be residual magic lying around. I’ll show you how to tidy it and remove the leftover power. You’ll need the …” Gibbs looked at the bookshelves and his eyes twinkled with amusement when he saw the relevant book quivering with excitement, “Green one at the end.”

The green book practically flung itself into Tony’s hands as he approached. As had become his custom, he stroked the book before placing it on the table.

“And you’ll want the …” the pages on the book began turning immediately, “… Wait!” said Gibbs sternly. The book seemed to sink back into the table. “You’ll want the Immediate Inventory Illumination. OK, you can go now.” This last was addressed to the book which began turning its pages again. When the pages had stopped turning, Gibbs spoke to Tony, “Read the spell … no, not aloud!”

Gibbs waited patiently while Tony read the spell.

“OK,” Tony said finally, “What do I do?”

“What did the book say?”

“To say the words and let my hands hover over all the table … the surface to be inventoried.”

“Then do it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Tony grinned with excitement at the thought of _controlling_ magic even if it was only clearing a table. He said the words and spread his hands over the table. There was a faint crackling and fizzing. “Did it work?” he asked.

“Turn to the Revelatory Redaction page,” he ordered, “There’s a spell there which will reveal what’s on the table.”

The book eagerly turned itself to the right page and Tony read the new spell.

“Shall I do it?”

“Yes.”

Tony said the words and, almost immediately, the table seemed to be covered with a multitude of little clouds and puffs of smoke. “Is that leftover magic?” he asked.

“Yes. You’ll need to do the spell again.”

Tony did the spell another five times until Gibbs took pity on him and swept everything up himself. “It’s a tough job,” he said, “There was a lot of spillage and some of it was powerful stuff. You got some of it. Come on, let’s eat.”

Tony shelved his excitement at having done magic and his despondency at not having done it right in favour of eating. Steaks made an appearance again along with turnip greens, lettuce, tomatoes and fried chicken. For dessert there was a marmalade and walnut pudding with custard.

“Take one of the books to bed with you,” ordered Gibbs when the meal was done.

“Which one?”

The books jumped up and down vying for attention.

“Which one do you want?”

“Well,” said Tony kindly, “I think they’re all great … but perhaps the first one. The travel stuff was real interesting.” The blue book jumped down cheerfully while the other books slumped back in disappointment. “Hey, guys,” said Tony quickly, “I’m here for 1000 days … well, 999 now … so there’s time for all of you,” he sensed some disbelief, “Promise!”

Gibbs looked at Tony thoughtfully but didn’t comment, “Have a look through the book … see what you can remember about the spells I used.”

Tony nodded, the blue book already quivering in his hands, but he looked a little uncertain.

“What?” asked Gibbs.

“Well …”

“Spit it out.”

“Do we ever get to … go outside?”

Gibbs blinked at this. He was used to long periods in the basement and was comfortable there, but he realised that it might be difficult for Tony, “Sure. You can go up to my yard for half an hour after lunch and for an hour after we eat at night. No more than that, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Tony nodded, “Er … is there anything to do in your yard?”

Gibbs stared at him, hoping he wasn’t looking to be hanging out with girls in his down time, “You make your own amusement.”

“Huh. Oh, OK, I guess.”

Gibbs had a momentary flashback to his own teenage years and took pity on the lad, “Here,” he tossed Tony a basketball, “Best I can do.”

Tony caught the ball without dropping the book and, having deposited a disappointed book in his bedroom, ran up the stairs. Unlike Peaseblossom Patty, he didn’t seem to find it very difficult.


	3. Chapter 3

The next days continued in much the same way. Tony used up every second of his allotted yard time, ate the eclectic food provided, listened and learned as directed … and cleared the worktable at the end of the day.

“Is it cold in here?” asked the latest visitor – the oldest looking man Tony had ever seen.

“Nope,” said Gibbs.

“Huh. Thought it might be.”

“No. What can I do for you, Marcus?”

“Guess there’s no chance of you selling me a perpetual youth potion?” he laughed.

“Nope.”

“How about something to make the ladies oblivious to my … wrinkles?” Marcus winked.

Something like a smile creased Gibbs’s face for a moment, “No. What do you want, Marcus?”

“I want to know why – if it’s not cold in here – your young assistant here is wearing a knit cap … pulled down over his eyebrows.”

Tony flushed red and pulled the cap down a little more.

“Tony,” said Gibbs, “Master Marcus asked you a question.”

Tony had, so far, never argued with his master but he came close to it now. He and Gibbs locked eyes for a few seconds and then Tony’s eyes dropped. He, very slowly, raised a hand to his hat and, with the air of someone trying to get something over and done with, snatched it off.

Marcus gazed at the blue hair and eyebrows; his lips twitched, and his eyes danced before he said solemnly, “Guess you should be glad it’s cobalt blue rather than Prussian blue, son. Now, Jethro, I need a way to glide over Lake Michigan and, at my age, I can’t do it under my own steam. Can you help me out?”

“OK. But you’re sure it’s Lake Michigan? You’re not going glacier hunting in Alaska again?”

“I’ve learned my lesson. I’m sticking close to home now.”

“Apprentice Tony, the grey book, second on the right on the …” but the book had heard the instruction and pushed its way to the front of the shelf before Gibbs could finish speaking.

“Hmm,” said Marcus, “Interesting.”

“Apprentice Tony, find the Hovering Hortation. And book, don’t do it for him,” ordered Gibbs.

The book flattened its pages in an innocent manner and Tony began to search the book. He was getting better at finding the spells especially as he found that the pages crackled slightly the nearer he got. As usual, Gibbs cast a cursory look at the relevant page, waved his hand and produced a grey stone,

“It won’t take you north of the Hudson Bay,” he warned severely.

“Why …” began Tony, “Excuse me, may I ask a question, Master?”

Gibbs nodded permission.

“Master Marcus, why do you want to hover over Lake Michigan?”

“I like to … puzzle things out. I used to be an investigator. And I still like to investigate. Unlike some people,” Marcus directed a knowing look at Gibbs who simply shrugged. “Now, I must be going.” Marcus delved into a pocket. Tony watched with a mixture of interest and trepidation, knowing that whatever he produced might appear at dinnertime.

Marcus’ eyes twinkled as he produced three cabbages and six onions. Tony’s expression fell slightly as he imagined how the cabbages and onion would go with the tuna, carrots, couscous and tofu Gibbs had been gifted already that day. Marcus winked at Tony as he saw the downcast face and dug once more into his pocket and produced a bag of donuts and a box of jellybeans, “I’ve taken the blue ones out,” he whispered conspiratorially.

Tony grinned his thanks.

Marcus heaved himself precariously to his feet and exchanged the usual formalities with Gibbs before taking his leave. “Oh,” he said, turning when he got to the door, “Don’t worry, Apprentice Tony, the blue will fade. Eventually!”

Tony frowned and thrust the hat back down over his hair.

“I told you,” said Gibbs, “It only happened because you didn’t look carefully enough after you cast the Revelatory Redaction.”

“But you hadn’t done anything to turn people blue that day,” whined Tony.

“Sometimes the leftover powers combine unexpectedly,” said Gibbs vaguely, “You need to be careful.”

The _huh_ came only softly and quietly from Tony’s voice. He harboured a suspicion (not entirely unfounded) that Gibbs had deliberately planted magic that would turn his hair blue.

Gibbs’s methods, though unorthodox at times, were effective and Tony had been meticulous to the extreme ever since and there had been no further incidents. After a few more days, Gibbs decided to let the fading of the blue accelerate as a reward for Tony’s attentiveness.

XXXXXX

A few days later, just as Tony’s hair had returned to normal, a visitor arrived who seemed almost to be a friend of Gibbs. He forewent the usual courtesies in favour of simply saying,

“Dug down even deeper, have you, Gibbs?”

“Trying to get away from you, Fornell,” came the reply.

Tony tensed for a moment: the exchange sounded hostile, but he didn’t pick up any real animosity.

“See you’ve got another gopher,” Fornell continued, “The Seer told me about him. How you doing, boy?”

“I am well, thank you, Sir,” replied Tony trying not to scowl at being called _boy_, “And my name is Tony.”

“Is it indeed?”

“What’s on your mind, Tobias?” asked Gibbs, “You didn’t come all the way down here to check on my new apprentice.”

“I need something from you,” confessed Tobias.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard. I need a surveillance spell.”

“_You_ need a surveillance spell? You already know how to do that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. This is to detect if _I’m_ under surveillance.”

“You think you are?”

Tobias bit back a hasty response, “Yes. It’s just a feeling … but nothing I do seems to make it go away. Think I need something that’s more in your line, Gibbs.”

Gibbs looked at Fornell and noted the lines of strain around his eyes. He nodded,

“Apprentice Tony, I need the brown book from the top shelf.”

Tony stopped on his way to the shelves, “But it won’t come to me. Not from the top shelf.”

Gibbs waved a hand and the books on the top shelf, which had up to then looked on forlornly, began to jump around excitedly. The brown book emerged from the rank of books with something like a swagger and then dived neatly off and into Tony’s waiting hands. “HI,” he whispered, “Nice to meet you at last.” The booked purred happily.

“Apprentice Tony, find the Surreptitious Surveillance Counter Hortation,” ordered Gibbs.

The book was allowed to help Tony find the right page. Gibbs glanced at the spell but then, rather than instantly producing a result, frowned in concentration for a few seconds before producing, not a stone, but a pin of some sort.

“Thanks, Gibbs,” said Tobias as he accepted the pin. He reached into a pocket and produced a bottle of bourbon. “Appreciate it.” He looked at Tony and delved again, this time producing a bottle of root beer.

Gibbs nodded in return, “Be careful, Tobias.”

“Always. Good to meet you, boy.”

Gibbs frowned as Fornell walked away. Tony hovered uncertainly, wondering where to stow the bourbon. After a few moments, Gibbs came out of his reverie and solved Tony’s problem by taking the bottle from him,

“I’ll take that.”

Gibbs seemed to sense that no more visitors were on their way, so he decided it was time for them to eat. As they ate, Tony spoke,

“Do you like boats?”

“What?”

Tony gestured towards the pictures of boats on the walls, “You’ve got a lot of pictures of them. I guess you like them. Unless,” he seemed to think aloud, “They’re to cover damp spots.”

“You think my basement is damp?” demanded Gibbs. 

By now, however, Tony could recognise when Gibbs was truly angry and when he was, after his own manner, teasing. So Tony, this time, simply grinned and replied, “Well, you don’t like to waste things. It might be that someone gave you the pictures and you’re just making sure they get used.”

“How do you know I don’t like waste?”

“We eat everything you get given. Even the tofu.”

“You didn’t like the way I prepared it?”

Tony frowned, “It was fine … but it was tofu … in a wrap! Who likes tofu in a wrap?” He thought of another grievance, “And why do you always answer a question _with_ a question?”

“It’s something adults do,” smiled Gibbs, “Now, what question did you want answered?”

Tony decided not to point out that Gibbs had, yet again, answered a question with another one and said, “About the boats. Do you like boats?”

“I used to make my living at sea.”

“And does that mean you _like_ boats?” pressed Tony.

“I guess. Yes, I guess it does.”

“Do you have a boat of your own?”

But the moment of concord was over, “I did have. Not anymore,” said Gibbs briskly, “Hey, don’t you want to go and play ball?”

Tony nodded quickly and hurried into his bedroom to retrieve the ball and a moment later, his feet could be heard running lightly up the stairs. Silence fell on the basement when Gibbs was left alone, he gazed at the pictures of the boats and sighed. A few minutes passed with Gibbs still sitting staring into space when he shook himself and decided to check on Tony.

Usually Gibbs used his powers to check remotely on Tony with the aim of simply checking that he was safe but, on this day, he decided to go and observe Tony with his own eyes. He went silently up the stairs and went into the lounge of the house and looked out over his backyard. Tony was running up and down, dribbling the ball and then taking shots at the hoop Gibbs had set up. Watching critically, Gibbs had to admit that Tony was good – even when the ball bounced awkwardly or the wind caught it, he usually managed to grab it.

Satisfied that Tony was fine, Gibbs retreated once more to the basement where he began to consider Tony’s expertise with the basketball. He was so engrossed that he forgot to summon Tony back promptly and he got an extra ten minutes of relaxation.

The afternoon session was relatively quiet, meaning that Tony spent more time than usual in reading a book. It might have been the quiet which made the boy a little irritable or perhaps, Gibbs reasoned, the extra ten minutes had overtired him. Gibbs rolled his shoulders as he realised that he also felt tenser than usual. It was a relief when a client arrived to request a charm to prevent her toddler from wandering away.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to build a fence?” blurted out Tony.

Gibbs frowned in disapproval even if he had been about to suggest something similar.

“Yes, it would,” smiled Casey, “But we rent an apartment in a big house and, under the terms of the lease, we’re not allowed to have fences in the garden area. We’re all mean to share it together. I’d like a way to let Cassandra toddle as she pleases but within an area that I set.”

“I see,” said Gibbs, “Apprentice Tony, get me the book with the Toddler Containment Charm in it.”

“I apologise, Mistress Casey,” said Tony, “I should not have spoken.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” snapped Gibbs, “Now, get the book!”

The relevant book gave its usual obliging assistance and Casey was soon supplied with the appropriate stone.

“Thank you, you’re a life saver,” she said as she clutched the stone, “Both of you.” She produced a packet of rusks, six jars of baby food and a carton of milk.

Gibbs rarely showed surprise at what he was offered in payment, but he did look a little blankly at this offering. “Fair passage on all your journeys,” he said. 

“And a blessing on all that you aspire to,” replied Casey cheerfully.

Tony silently took the offerings away for storage and then came back and stood in front of Gibbs,

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I know I’m not meant to speak unless invited to.”

“Remember what Patty said?”

Tony sighed at yet another question rather than an answer, “Yes, she said not to apologise.”

“She was right. Just don’t do it again.”

Tony nodded and went back to looking at the book but, although the book hummed happily and took care to animate the pictures for him, he found it hard to concentrate.

The unsatisfactory afternoon drew to a close and Gibbs decided it was time to clear the table. Tony, despite his restlessness, took trouble with the cleansing and chanted the spell twice to make sure all the residual powers had been removed.

“You done?” asked Gibbs sharply. Tony had taken much longer than usual to get the job done.

Tony frowned and stretched out his hands over the table, “I don’t know.”

“You’ve run the Immediate Inventory Illumination?”

“Twice.”

“And you’ve done it right?”

“Yes,” Tony was confident.

“Then it’s fine.”

“I guess. It just doesn’t feel …”

“Feel what?”

“Like it has before.”

“Run the Revelatory Redaction then, see if you’ve missed anything.”

Tony looked up in surprise, they usually trusted that he’d run the first spell completely. He began to recite the Redaction and then paused and held his hand out over the table, “I can …”

The next moment Tony saw a flash and heard a loud bang and then found himself falling into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

“Anthony, can you try and wake up for me?”

Tony was aware of a strange voice talking kindly to him. He was reluctant to open his eyes because he felt very comfortable where he was, and he had a suspicion that the comfort might come to an end once he was properly awake.

“Come along, Anthony, there is nothing to be worried about,” said the voice again.

Tony had learned the habit of obedience, so he decided to try and do what he was told and besides, he was curious to meet this person who called him _Anthony._ He managed to open his eyes and blinked against the light as he saw an elderly gentleman beaming down at him.

“Dear boy, it is a delight to make your acquaintance! I can only apologise that it has taken so long for me to make a visit and, of course, that it is under these circumstances that our paths have finally crossed.”

Tony blinked again as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He looked around and realised that he was lying in bed,

“W-what happened?” he asked.

“What do you remember, Anthony?”

Tony shook his head at yet again being answered with a question. He winced as he regretted the movement.

“Tony,” prompted Gibbs, “Answer, please.”

Tony blinked yet again. Gibbs had never said _please_ to him. He frowned as he tried to think, “I’d cleaned the table … twice …”

“And?” prompted the stranger, “What happened next?”

“Something didn’t feel right,” said Tony, “Master Jethro said to run the Redaction … to see if it … the cleaning had worked … and I started …”

“Yes?”

“And I felt something.”

“What did you feel, Tony?” asked Gibbs.

“Something … nasty … and it crackled. And then … I don’t remember what happened after that. What happened, Master? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Tony,” said Gibbs gently, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not sure what happened but I think there was something … nasty … on the table.”

“You didn’t put it there?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like the blue hair thing?”

“Jethro!” protested the visitor, “Did you really cause the young man’s hair to turn blue.”

“And my eyebrows,” said Tony, sensing an ally.

“Jethro!”

“Come on, Ducky! You really think this is the time for a discussion on my methods?”

“Ducky?” asked Tony in puzzlement.

“Dr Donald Mallard, at your service – I fear I have acquired the nickname _Ducky_ for rather obvious reasons, but I would be honoured if you would use the name yourself. I invite all my friends to do so and I am sure that you and I are destined to become great friends.”

Tony was sure there must be some sort of polite response but, before he could make it, his eyes drifted shut and he was asleep.

Gibbs looked at his apprentice anxiously, “Is he going to be all right, Ducky? He was flung across the room hard … and he’s been out for over an hour.”

Ducky picked up Tony’s wrist and felt his pulse, “I believe he will be fine, Jethro. He will likely have a headache – for which I will give you a Pain Prevention Potion – and he should take it easy for a number of days. Is he an avid student?”

“What?” asked Gibbs in response to this apparent non sequitur.

“I was assuming, from the number of books in his room that he is a keen student. I would not recommend any prolonged periods of study until he is fully recovered.”

Gibbs laughed, “He likes reading, I guess but the books are here because they’re worried about him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tony’s made friends with the books.”

“Indeed. How fascinating.” Ducky held out his hand and a thermometer appeared and popped itself into Tony’s mouth. “I will, of course, monitor Anthony’s condition both remotely and directly. If you have any worries, then don’t hesitate to summon me.”

“He had me worried,” admitted Gibbs as he brushed Tony’s hair back off his forehead. He seemed to sense Ducky’s gaze and said hastily, “He needs a haircut.”

“Indeed. Quite so,” said Ducky tactfully.

Gibbs waved a hand and a bottle of whisky flew into the room, “For you.”

“That is most kind of you, Jethro. And my, it is a Bruichladdich single malt from Islay! Where on earth …”

“Marcus brought it back as a souvenir.”

“Marcus? But I thought he was investigating Lake Michigan. And didn’t you tell me that you put a restriction on his travel?”

“I did,” said Jethro gloomily, “But I only made it a _northerly_ restriction. He pushed the north to its limits and then went east … ended up off the coast of Scotland.”

“Well,” said Ducky as he gazed appreciatively at the bottle, “I can only be thankful for his enterprise … and your generosity. I wonder, would you join me in a glass? You know I am always hopeful of weaning you away from bourbon.”

“Is it all right to leave him?” asked Gibbs with uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“He is safe hands,” smiled Ducky as he looked at the books clustered around him. “And I have noticed that sometimes patients sleep better when they are not observed.”

“OK then.”

Ducky gestured for Gibbs to precede him and then looked back for a final check, “My, my,” he chuckled.

“Duck?”

“Your apprentice seems to have exercised his charm … look …”

Gibbs followed the doctor’s gaze and saw that one of Ducky’s cloths was gently patting Tony’s forehead while the thermometer hovered, waiting to take his temperature if needed.

“As I said, in safe hands.”

XXXXXX

A few minutes later, as Ducky reverently sipped at his whisky, he asked, “What do you think happened, Jethro?”

“Don’t know, Duck. Pretty sure the explosion wasn’t caused by any accidental combination of the magic from today. You know I’ve usually got a good handle on what’s been left over.”

“And I’m guessing that, at the moment, with a new apprentice to train, you’re making sure to spill more than normal?”

“Kid needs practice. But I’m careful, you know I wouldn’t put him in harm’s way just as a learning exercise.”

“I know, Jethro. I can see you care for the boy.”

Gibbs attempted a shrug, “He’s my responsibility.”

“Quite so,” Ducky decided to let his friend off the hook, “So, where did this _potent_ magic come from, do you think?”

“Tony was irritable this afternoon. And that’s not like him, he’s usually pretty laid back.”

“Did anything occur to cause this irritation?”

“Fornell paid us a visit this morning.”

“Tobias? Goodness, I haven’t seen him for months. Was it a _social_ call?” The tone of Ducky’s voice betrayed his scepticism about Fornell paying a friendly visit, “I mean, I know that you and he are better friends than you care to broadcast but … it seems unlikely that he would just come for a chat.”

“I didn’t say he did,” said Gibbs mildly, “No, he wanted something. Said he had a feeling he was being watched. Wanted a detector of some sort.”

“Which you provided?”

“Yep.”

“And was it after that Tony experienced his _irritability?_”

“I guess so. Yes, we had another client this afternoon. Young woman … Tony was impatient with her. Never known him be like that before, he usually likes meeting people.”

“And you, Jethro. Were you also experiencing feelings of irritability?”

“You suggesting I’d know the difference?” joked Gibbs.

“Come, come, Jethro. You may be brusque and give the impression of being impatient at times, but I believe that, underneath, you are fairly imperturbable.”

“Yes, I felt irritable too but I kinda put it down to …”

“Down to what?”

“Tony goes into the yard for a break. I went up to watch him …”

“Ahh,” said Ducky understandingly, “And this disturbed you in some way?”

“It’s been a while since I went upstairs … left the basement. I figured it had unsettled me …”

“And why did you go? If I may ask?”

“I felt restless … basement seemed empty without the kid in it. I had this … urge … to get out.”

“You know, Jethro,” said Ducky carefully, “I believe that Anthony’s presence has been good for you … there is a _lighter_ atmosphere down here. And you know that I am sensitive to such things.”

“I guess … he’s livened things up. The clients like him … although they keep paying with cakes and candy! I have to ration it.”

“I see. But to return to our earlier discussion, where do you think the explosive magic came from?”

“I think it must have been Fornell.”

“What! Surely you don’t think Tobias sabotaged you?”

“No. Course not. No, I was wondering if the _surveillance_ thing … you know, him thinking he was being watched was actually him experiencing this _power_ clinging to him.”

“Hmm … but why were there no explosions while it was Tobias?”

“Best guess is that it reacted to Tony casting the spells.”

“I think you need to speak to Tobias … or suggest that he undergo some sort of cleansing in safe surroundings.”

“I’ve let him know … you know all the weird places he investigates; I guess he might have picked something up. But, Ducky …”

“Yes, Jethro?”

“It was Tony who picked up the presence of whatever it was … I mean, he couldn’t identify it or quantify it, but he knew something wasn’t right.”

“Yes?”

“He’s only been learning for a few weeks … that’s advanced stuff …”

XXXXXX

It turned out that Ducky favoured a hands-on approach to monitoring Tony’s recovery, and he visited most days. Tony recovered well but the Pain Prevention Potion made him sleepy and it was a couple of days before he was ready to sit up and take notice properly,

“Wow,” he said, “There’s a lot of books in here. I guess I have gotten behind a bit.” He looked at the books which shuffled in an embarrassed manner. Tony looked closer, “And hey, there are some of you guys from the top shelf!” The _difficult_ books preened themselves a little with pleasure at having been recognised.

“I wonder, Anthony,” said Ducky, “Whether you have ever played chess?”

“Not properly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I didn’t have anyone to play with. So I kinda had to play both ends.”

“I see. Well, it would be a great pleasure to me if you would play a match with me, Anthony.”

“Er, sure. Um, Dr Ducky … can I ask you something?”

“Assuredly, dear boy. Is it something about your recovery? You know, you are making splendid progress and I will start reducing the dosage of the potion momentarily. So long, of course, as you continue to make good progress. I have noticed that sometimes my younger patients can get a little impatient in the recovery stage … although, to tell the truth, it is something which my older patients also experience. In fact, it is probably true to say that most people are restive in the period of convalescence. Does that answer your question?”

Tony was not yet used to Ducky and looked stunned for a moment or two before gathering his wits enough to say, “No, that wasn’t my question. Although it was good to know,” he added hastily, “No, I wanted to ask you a favour …”

“A favour? I will, of course, do my best to meet any request you may make on the proviso that I do not believe it will be detrimental to your recovery. And I would suggest that you take my opinion on these matters with due seriousness. I can say, with all modesty of course, that I have a great deal of experience in such matters. Now, what is the favour?”

Tony recovered more quickly this time, “I was wondering … I was wondering … well, I was wondering …”

“Yes, dear boy? What were you wondering?”

“If you’d mind calling me Tony,” said Tony in a rush.

“Excuse me?”

“I was wondering if you’d call me Tony instead of Anthony.”

“Well, I have to confess it is my habit to call people by the full version of their given name,” said Ducky, “I take the view that parents give due attention to the appellation they bestow on their offspring and that it is good to acknowledge that by using the name in full. I hope you don’t think that my calling you _Anthony_ is a sign of any sort of disapproval on my part … I know some people feel that being called by their full name reminds them of being in school … or their parents use the full name only when they’re in trouble. But I can assure you there is nothing of that in my decision to call you by your full name.”

“Oh, OK,” said Tony.

Ducky saw that he looked despondent at the answer, “Anthony – why do you not wish me to call you that? Please tell me, I do not wish to cause you any distress.”

Tony looked at his hands rather than at Ducky, “It’s just that … well, you see … oh, it doesn’t matter!”

“Anth-Tony, please tell me. I think it does matter and I would like to understand why.”

Tony raised his eyes to look at Ducky, “Where I was before … they called me Anthony. And … and …”

“And?”

“And they weren’t very nice … and it kinda brings back bad memories.”

“Then of course I don’t want to be counted among their number and I would be delighted to call you Tony,” said Ducky warmly, “And now, shall we begin our game of chess?”

Chess turned out, however, not to be simple as Ducky might have hoped. 

In deciding which colour to play, Tony ended up with black. The black pieces jiggled with excitement and hurried to their places on the board. The white pieces marched straight back to the box and slammed the lid down. Ducky had to pick them out and put them in the correct squares. Then, however, they all fell over. If pieces of wood could be said to be sulking, the white chess pieces were sulking.

“Come along,” said Ducky firmly, “We want to play.”

The white pieces were unable to disobey a direct command so slowly righted themselves. The game did not progress smoothly as it seemed that the white pieces were as determined as the black ones that Tony should win. If they sensed that Ducky was about to move them into a position dangerous for the black pieces, they made themselves as heavy as possible to make it hard for them to be moved. And, if Ducky looked away from the board, they would move quickly into less favourable positions.

Unsurprisingly, although it turned out that Tony was not a very good player, Ducky was soon in an impossible position and, just before he could resign, his king threw itself to the ground with great enthusiasm. The pieces then all rushed to the centre of the board and jumped up and down with glee.

After this it was decided that Tony would watch while Jethro and Ducky played. Apart from the occasion when Ducky’s bishop careered off the board to get a better look at Tony, all went well and Tony learned a lot about strategy although, unless the chess pieces became less devoted, it was difficult to see when he’d get a chance to put his newfound knowledge into practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … having resolved the cliff hanger, I’ll slow down on the updates …


	5. Chapter 5

A week after the explosion, Tony was declared fit enough to resume his apprenticing duties and he was once again ready to usher visitors to a chair.

The first visitor was Fornell who was looking more relaxed than on his previous visit but who was looking a little sheepish. This time he used the correct greeting, almost as if he was unsure of his welcome,

“Master Gibbs, I seek admission to your halls.”

“You are welcome,” came Gibbs’ reply, “And peace be on your sojourn.”

“Jethro, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I swear.”

“Hey, Tobias, of course you didn’t know. Have you worked out where you picked it up?”

“I didn’t pick it up. It was planted on me.”

“Where?”

“Orange grove in California.”

Tony raised an eyebrow; it would seem that Fornell didn’t need Gibbs’ help in transporting himself around.

“What were you doing in an orange grove?” asked Gibbs with a hint of amusement in his voice at the thought of his friend being in such a sunny healthy place.

“Investigating whether the orange juice business was a cover for something less wholesome. They distribute the fruit and juice all over the country – could be a good smokescreen for transporting other stuff.”

“And what did you find?”

“We _thought_ it was above board but somehow, now we found the bug … well, we’re not sure.”

“You mean if they hadn’t put the bug on you, they’d have got away with it?” asked Tony.

“Yep, kid.”

“But that’s stupid …”

“You’re right but sometimes the bad guys are not only bad but dumb. Someone overplayed their hand,” replied Fornell.

“I hadn’t seen powers like that before,” said Gibbs soberly, “My guess is that you’re up against something … well, nasty.”

“We’ve got our best minds working on it,” said Fornell, “Although we might come pick your brain as well … if you’re up for it?” he added a little uncertainly.

“Feels like I’m involved already,” said Gibbs, “Let me know what you need.”

“Thanks, Jethro. And kid, I’m real sorry about what happened to you. Are you OK now?”

“I’m fine, Master Tobias,” said Tony. “Did the bug make _you_ feel irritable too?”

“Excuse me?”

“I felt irritable the day that the bad magic spilled on to the table …”

“And was _Master_ Jethro irritable too?” asked Fornell mischievously, “Or was it too hard to tell the difference?”

“Master Jethro is never irritable,” said Tony primly and without even the suspicion of a wink.

“You’ve got him well-trained, Jethro,” said Fornell.

“I was a bit … irritated,” admitted Gibbs, “Why do you want to know, Tony?”

“I just wondered if that was part of the plan. You know, a lot of people if they were irritated might get impatient … and walk away. Or they might not be as observant as usual.”

“I guess,” agreed Fornell.

“So that could have been part of the plan too. Make you want to give up the investigation,” said Tony.

“Could be,” said Gibbs, “They weren’t to know that Tobias is too ornery to give up just because he’s out of sorts.”

“Or it might be,” said Tony as he continued to think aloud, “That if _you’d_ done any magic that you’d have exploded yourself.”

“Thanks, kid,” said Fornell, suppressing a shudder at the thought of accidentally detonating himself. “Good thing you found the bad stuff before I used that pin that Jethro gave me.”

“You’re welcome,” said Gibbs, “You look better anyway, Tobias. Your bosses send you off somewhere for R and R once you’d been _cleansed_?”

“Insisted,” said Fornell, “And they sent me to the good place too. You know, I reckon just having that _stuff_ on me was wearing me out. I slept 24 hours straight when I got to the vacation place.”

“Keep the pin,” advised Jethro, “Might come in handy.”

Tobias nodded his thanks, “I’d best be going. Here, kid, got you a baseball; figured you could practise pitching – here’s a glove to go with it.” The objects were fished out of Fornell’s obliging pockets.

“Wow, thanks Master Tobias,” said Tony.

“No trouble, kid. And I’ll pass on your ideas about the bug stuff – might be something in them. We’ll make an investigator out of you yet, eh Jethro?”

“Not yet you won’t; he’s got another 936 days of his apprenticeship to go,” said Gibbs discouragingly.

“Hah! I must be going … see you soon, Jethro. I’ll keep you updated.”

“See you do. Fair passage on all your journeys.”

“And a blessing on your endeavours,” replied Fornell.

Tony nodded absently but he already had his pitcher’s glove on and was tossing the new ball.

“Hey! Not in here,” barked Gibbs.

Tony looked around the basement but decided not to comment on the fact that there seemed little that was breakable down there.

It turned out, however, that Gibbs was feeling benevolent and released Tony a little earlier than usual for his break time. “We’ll eat when you come back,” he said.

When Tony had disappeared, Gibbs stared for a while at one of his boat pictures. He was wondering whether to start building another craft when he was surprised to see Tony rushing back into the room.

“Why are you wet?” he demanded.

“I’m not all wet,” said Tony defensively, “Just my arms. And one leg but that’s just where I dripped on to it.”

“All right,” said Gibbs patiently, “Why are your arms and one leg wet? And what’s that you’ve got in your hands?”

Tony held them out so that Gibbs could see better, “it’s a cat … kitten,” he said, “I heard it calling. It had fallen into the pond at the bottom of your yard. It was drowning. I don’t think cats can swim.” He ran a gentle finger over its head.

Gibbs peered at the sorry-looking black and white kitten which, when it was dry, probably would score highly on the cuteness scale but at that moment just looked soggy and forlorn. Gibbs had a feeling of foreboding but knew he couldn’t tell Tony to take the animal away, “OK,” he said, “Go get something to dry the thing. And then we’ll try and get it warmed up. And then,” he said firmly, “We’ll find out who it belongs to.”

“It’s not an it,” said Tony informatively, “She’s a she. And her name’s Nora.”

“Nora?” This seemed an unlikely name for Tony to choose, “Why _Nora_?”

Tony continued to stroke the little creature and didn’t look up, “I knew someone called Nora once … and she was kind to me. I just like the name, I guess.” He steeled himself to look at Gibbs.

“Fair enough,” said Gibbs neutrally although he was fairly sure now that _Nora_ was there to stay. “Don’t know how Jasper will react though.”

“Jasper?” asked Tony as he gently towelled Nora dry.

“The basement cat.”

“You have a cat? How come I’ve never seen him?”

Gibbs tilted his head as he considered how to categorise his relationship with Jasper, “Nobody _has_ Jasper. He’s what you might call a _free spirit._ He comes and goes. Come to think of it, he hasn’t _come_ for a while.”

“Will he be OK with Nora?”

“Hard to predict,” Gibbs had to admit.

“I’ll need to find out how to look after her,” mused Tony. At that moment, a book swooped down in front of Tony and the pages flipped open at a chapter entitled _Looking After Your Feline Friend – all you need to know in ten easy pages._ “Cool! Thanks, guys,” said Tony. He began reading but was interrupted by the sound of Gibbs cough, “Yes, Master?”

“Think the first thing she needs is feeding. And then you need to set up a dirt tray. She’s your responsibility, understand?”

Tony nodded vigorously while, at the same time, being careful not to shake the cat. Gibbs decided, on reflection, that the dirt tray was an urgent requirement and was best not left to Tony at this early stage of his pet ownership. So it was, that shortly after Nora’s arrival, they all sat down to eat. Nora was curled up on Tony’s lap; Gibbs felt this was somehow the thin end of a very large wedge but couldn’t bring himself to separate Tony and his new friend.

The afternoon clients were all equally enchanted with Nora: this led to an abundance of cat food being offered and a dearth of suitable human food. Tony was still more than happy about the arrival of Nora, but he hoped that Master Jethro would be able to fashion the morning offerings of hardboiled eggs, strawberries, a bag of garlic, 10 packets of instant oatmeal and 5 tubes of toothpaste into something edible for their evening meal.

“So,” asked Tony casually as he was casting the Immediate Inventory Illumination spell, “What’s Jasper like?”

“Big.”

“Do your … _visitors_ like him?” Tony smiled as he remembered how the afternoon clients had cooed over the new arrival.

“Hard to say. He doesn’t really set out to make friends with them,” said Gibbs. He looked down at Nora who he was holding while Tony cast his spell and recognised her as a bundle of charm. She looked up at him with a wide-eyed amber stare and then butted his hand when he stopped stroking her.

Gibbs was a pragmatist and knew which battles to fight so he didn’t protest when Nora went to bed with Tony that night although he did stipulate that the kitten sleep in the newly provided basket. Tony had given his solemn promise but, of course, Nora was not consulted on the matter which may be why, as soon as Tony was in bed, she clambered up and tucked herself under his chin, gave a loud purr and then fell asleep. Tony followed her into slumber, lulled by the rhythmic sound of the purring.

XXXXXX

Gibbs was somehow not surprised, when he got up the next morning, to find a large, handsome, silver grey cat sitting on the worktable.

“Jasper, you’re back.”

Jasper favoured Gibbs with a long stare before yawning and starting his cleaning ritual. Gibbs shrugged, gave him a welcoming stroke and went to get his first cup of coffee of the day.

It wasn’t long before Tony emerged from his bedroom wearing Nora around his neck. He stopped short when he saw Jasper,

“Is that Jasper?” he asked in an awestruck voice.

Gibbs nodded.

“He’s _huge_!”

Jasper paused in the washing of his hind leg and gazed at the newcomer. He blinked in a dismissive manner and carried on licking.

“Guess we’d better introduce them?” said Tony a little uncertainly as he mentally considered the relative sizes of the two cats.

Gibbs shrugged. They couldn’t keep them apart indefinitely; he would just hope his reflexes were still quick enough to prevent any permanent damage.

Tony unwound Nora from his neck and put her on the table. The kitten seemed to have forgotten her uncertain start in life and bounded forward confidently to investigate the new phenomenon. Jasper continued his ablutions even when Nora nudged him with her nose. Nora seemed to decide that this was a game and butted him again. This time, Jasper favoured her with a long, cool stare. Nora stared back.

The staring continued for an unnerving ten seconds or so and then Jasper stood up, straightened his legs as stiffly as possible, arched his back, raised his fur and hissed at her. Tony twitched as if to snatch her out of harm’s way, but Gibbs shook his head. Nora looked up at the cat towering over her and meowed softly. Jasper hissed again; Nora meowed again. And then, Jasper yawned and turned his back on her and began washing himself. Nora, not to be defeated, turned _her_ back on _him_ and also began cleaning herself.

Tony and Gibbs looked at one another and each suppressed a snort of laughter. The cats, united for a moment, turned twin stares of reproach on the humans, before resuming their cleansing routines.

As the days passed, it seemed that Jasper had decided his nomadic days were over: he seemed determined not to cede his basement territory. He and Nora maintained a policy of ignoring one another and peace reigned – or as much peace as there could be with a young kitten in the house.


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks after Tony had resumed his apprentice duties, a day came when he seemed subdued and listless. Gibbs was alarmed enough to carry out a surreptitious scan for bugs of the sort which had been planted on Fornell, but he detected nothing.

The clients that day noticed a difference and were swift to leave after their consultations were completed. Gibbs allowed him an extra-long break for lunch and braced himself to go upstairs and watch what he did from the lounge window. Usually, Tony ran around throwing balls and practising various skills but on that day, he just sat on a bench and stroked Nora who seemed to sense his mood and allowed him simply to pet her rather than demanding that he play with her.

Gibbs slipped away before Tony could spot that he was being watched and wondered whether Tony had suddenly become bored with the life of an apprentice and wanted something more exciting. Tony returned from his break with a determinedly cheerful look on his face which was almost more disturbing than the moroseness of the morning.

The afternoon went much as the morning had with the clients dealt with speedily and with little conversation. Gibbs found himself missing Tony’s _yabba yabba _which had become the background to life in the basement. He also found himself wondering how he would cope with the remaining days of Tony’s apprenticeship if the silence became permanent.

Gibbs was just deciding to bring the day’s work to an end when the door admitted another supplicant and a familiar voice said,

“Master Jethro Gibbs, I seek admission to your halls,” said Seer Morrow formally.

“You are welcome, and peace be on your sojourn,” came the reply.

“Jethro, good to see you,” said the Seer, “And Tony, how are you?”

“Fine,” said Tony.

Morrow raised an eyebrow in Gibbs’ direction, but he just shrugged, “And who’s this little beauty?” asked Morrow when he spied Nora draped in her favourite sleeping position around Tony’s neck.

“Nora.” Tony’s mouth came dangerously close to a smile as he reached up to stroke the kitten.

“Nora … ahh,” Seer Morrow looked less surprised at the choice of name than Gibbs had.

“What can we do for you, Tom?” asked Gibbs.

“Oh, it’s what _I_ can do for _you_,” said Morrow cheerfully. He reached into his pocket and produced a large chocolate cake with fifteen candles which immediately caught light as the cake was placed on the worktable, “Happy Birthday, Tony!”

Tony’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at the cake in amazement, “What?” he managed.

“Happy Birthday,” repeated Morrow, “Make a wish.”

“Excuse me?” Tony seemed honestly bewildered at the command.

“Blow the candles out and make a wish at the same time,” explained Gibbs.

“Why?”

“’Cos it’s what you’re meant to do with a birthday cake!”

“Oh, OK,” Tony carefully blew the candles out.

“Here,” said Morrow, producing a parcel out of the pocket, “For you.”

“It’s a birthday present,” said Gibbs thinking that Tony seemed to need all aspects of birthdays explained.

“A present? For me?”

“Yes, a present. For you,” said Morrow patiently, “Why don’t you open it?”

In Gibbs’ experience, Tony wasn’t particularly patient, but he opened the package with excruciating care as if he was trying to prolong the moment as much as possible.

“It’s a book!” exclaimed Tony. The other books came rushing over to see what the new addition to their number might be.

“What the …!” cried Morrow at the sight.

“The books kinda like Tony,” explained Gibbs blandly.

“Huh, so I see.”

“_The History of American Football_,” read Tony, “Wow. Thank you, Seer Morrow. This is great!” He held the book reverently in his hands and tears began to well up in his eyes.

“Tony,” said Gibbs gently, “Are you crying?”

Tony shook his head unconvincingly as he blinked to try and drive the moisture away, “DiNozzos don’t cry,” he managed at last.

Gibbs and Morrow tactfully allowed Tony a breathing space in which to compose himself and retreated to the far end of the room. The books continued to cluster around Tony to provide comfort and reassurance.

“Could’ve told me, Tom,” groused Gibbs, “I’d have done something for the kid.”

“You mean you didn’t know?” Gibbs shook his head. “I assumed that Tony would’ve told you. Most 15 years old are excited about their birthdays. I figured he wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet about it.”

“Nope, he didn’t say a word,” Jethro reached out a hand and absentmindedly stroked Jasper who deigned to allow him to do so.

“I’m sorry, Jethro,” said Morrow, “Really, I am.”

“I know. Nothing came from his family, you know.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“And I sort of expected that someone would have been in touch after he was hurt. You did tell them?”

“I passed the message on. And told them I was coming today for his birthday but didn’t hear anything back from them.”

“And Nora?” pressed Gibbs, “That meant something to you?”

“I’d forgotten but Nora was kind to Tony … well, as kind as anyone was.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to ask for more information but, at that moment, Tony approached them with two pieces of cake, “I figure we’re meant to eat the cake?” he said cheekily.

“Damn straight,” said Gibbs, “And I reckon we’ll order something in for dinner.”

Tony’s face lit up still more. Ordering in was something done only rarely and usually only if Gibbs’ inventiveness failed him in the face of a particularly difficult combination of clients’ food offerings.

“What do you want, Tony?”

“Pizza?” he asked hopefully.

“Pizza it is. You staying, Tom?”

Morrow nodded acceptance of the invitation and, as pizza ordered magically tends to arrive almost immediately, they were soon sitting down to eat. Conversation flowed easily although Tony had a tendency to fall into a happy reverie as he absorbed the wonders of his day.

The Seer lingered for a while over the meal and then took his leave. As he stood by the stairs, he looked at the basement and decided that it seemed less dimly than when he had brought Tony to Gibbs … and as he climbed the stairs, he thought it was possible they were less steep than he remembered.

Left alone, Gibbs gestured to Tony to eat the last slice of pizza. Tony nodded happily but carefully took two pieces of pepperoni and offered one each to Jasper and Nora. A moment later, and he had virtually inhaled the slice.

“Tony, why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday today?”

Tony shrugged, “It didn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. You’re 15, birthdays are important at your age.”

“They never were before.”

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ever celebrated your birthday?”

Tony smiled sadly, “We used to have a party … and presents and stuff. But not for a long time.”

“When was the last time?”

“I think I was 7 – it was the last one my Mom was at. Senior …”

“Senior?”

“My father. He’s Anthony DiNozzo too … so he’s Senior.”

“Go on.”

The shrug came again, “Nothing to tell. He didn’t arrange anything for my 8th birthday. Told me birthdays were for kids …”

“Was it him who told you _DiNozzos_ _don’t cry_?”

“They don’t,” said Tony simply.

“They can,” said Gibbs sternly, “If they want to, if they need to.”

“I guess,” said Tony in an unconvinced voice.

Gibbs wanted to press forward and find out more about Tony’s previous life but, in a moment of insight, he decided he wanted to give Tony a positive experience of his first birthday celebration since he was 7. Somehow, he thought that getting Tony to relive past pains was not a celebratory thing to do. He coughed,

“I’d have got you a present if I’d known it was your birthday …”

“Master Jethro! I didn’t expect anything … and we had pizza – that was present enough.”

“Like I said, I’d have got you something, but I guess I’ll show you something instead.”

“Master?”

“You’ve done well with the table cleaning spells,” praised Gibbs, “And you’ve done the listening and watching well … mostly.” Tony squirmed modestly. “So I figure it’s time for you to branch out and do more magic.”

“Really!” gasped Tony.

“I’ll suggest some spells you can do, and you’ll study them and then try them.”

“Wow!”

“And when you think you’ve got them right, you’ll show them to me.”

“You won’t watch me?”

“No. Best way to learn, apart from watching, is to do. It’s the way I learned, and I figure it’s worked out OK.”

“All right,” said Tony cautiously; he couldn’t help but think there was something else to come.

“But,” said Gibbs severely, “Early magic experiments can be messy … and get out of hand. And I like the basement the way it is …”

Tony nodded earnestly: the basement was his favourite place in the world.

“… so, I’ve set you up a kind of studio. It’s sort of buffered so the effects of any mess-ups – and there will be some – are contained in there and won’t spill out. Until I say that you have mastered a spell you don’t do it out here, understand?”

“Yes, Master, I understand.”

“Good boy. Come and have a look.”

Gibbs led the way to a door which Tony had not noticed before (and which, in truth, had not existed before). “Open it,” he said.

Tony opened the door and they walked in. The studio was small but had shelves for the books which would doubtless migrate there; a worktable and two chairs. It was lit in the same mysterious way in which the rest of the basement was illuminated. Tony noticed that, like his bathroom, it all looked brand new.

“This is so cool,” he said, “It’s great!”

“It’s your responsibility,” warned Gibbs, “You’ll have to keep it clear of spilled magic like you do the worktable. Understood?”

“Yes, Master. I’ll look after it. When do I start?”

Gibbs couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm; he decided not to point out that there was a lot of hard work in Tony’s future but settled for ruffling the boy’s hair instead, “Tomorrow,” he promised, “Why don’t you pick out a spell tonight?”


	7. Chapter 7

And so, the next stage of Apprentice Tony’s training began the next day and with it came, as predicted by Gibbs, strange messes, smells and noises. Tony’s hair seemed to bear the brunt of the mishaps: one day he emerged with rainbow coloured hair, another time he managed to grow it down to his shoulders and on another occasion, he shocked it into standing upright and waving all day. Another day he grew a full beard and one time he made his hands invisible.

Despite all this, he remained endearingly enthusiastic and Gibbs sometimes felt that he spent more time in Tony’s studio watching yet another attempt at a spell than dealing with his clients. The cats soon learned not to go into the studio and occasionally the books, sensing better than Tony did an impending disaster, would be seen making a hasty exit.

As the days passed however, the number of spells to which Gibbs gave his approval grew and one day he decided it was time to let Tony have a go at the cooking.

“Here’s a recipe book,” he said, handing it to Tony.

“A recipe book? Don’t I need a spell book to do the cooking?”

“You need to be able to visualise what you’re trying to produce,” explained Gibbs, “If I asked you to make coq au vin, would you know how to do it?”

“Er no.”

“Well, look up the recipe …”

The book helpfully flipped to the right page and Tony read the recipe. He looked up in surprise, “Do you really want one of these?”

Gibbs shook his head. He had only been to a French restaurant once in his life and hadn’t enjoyed the experience so French cuisine was not on his wish list, “It’s just an example,” he said patiently.

“Although,” said Tony thoughtfully as he re-read the recipe, “It sounds pretty good. Maybe the next time we get given a rooster I could give it a go … and what are lardons? And do you ever get paid in Burgundy wine?”

Gibbs decided to let the question of coq au vin drop as he was fairly sure that roosters, lardons and Burgundy wine were unlikely to be available. “You get the idea,” he said, “And look, we have apples, raisins, and eggs … why don’t you try and make us a pudding?”

Tony frowned in concentration and didn’t seem to make the obvious deduction of an apple sponge of some sort. He wandered into the studio with a distracted look. Gibbs found himself unexpectedly tense but consoled himself with the thought that Peaseblossom Patty had paid with a quart of rocky road ice cream the day before.

Three hours later, Gibbs was summoned to give approval of Tony’s efforts,

“What’s that?” he asked as he peered at something flat and round with a sprinkling of apples and raisins.

“Can’t you guess?” asked Tony in a slightly offended tone.

“Nope. Doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen. What is it?”

“Apple pizza. Try it!”

Gibbs was renowned for his stoicism and he truly wanted to encourage Tony, but this was nearly too much for him. He saw Tony’s expectant face and braced himself to take a small bite; it was (marginally) better than he’d expected.

“Hmm,” he said appreciatively, “Good work. You know what would go great with this?” Tony shook his head. “A real big scoop of rocky road ice cream!”

Tony was honoured that Master Jethro thought that his apple pizza was worthy of being teamed with his favourite ice cream. He resolved to make it again seeing that it had gone down so well the first time.

It was fortunate that both Tony and Gibbs had strong stomachs as they had to cope with the variety of dishes Tony produced. He continued to be particularly inventive in producing varieties of pizza undreamt of anywhere else, but he had a good line in soups, casseroles and baked fruit. He occasionally tried to produce steaks in the Gibbs manner but never managed to reproduce them. _That _magic was beyond him.

XXXXXX

“Where’s Tony?” asked Seer Morrow on one of his visits to the basement.

“In his studio,” replied Gibbs nodding towards the closed door.

“I haven’t got a lot of time,” said Morrow, “I’ll just go and have a word …”

“Wait!” called Gibbs but it was too late. Morrow had already knocked and opened the door. A torrent of water flooded out. Gibbs’ reflexes were superb and, in an instant, he had levitated himself, the Seer, Jasper and Nora along with the worktable out of reach of the flood. Tony floated out dressed in rainboots and a bright yellow raincoat. He scrambled to his feet, looked at the water and frowned: in a moment the water had vanished leaving only a damp patch behind.

Gibbs lowered everything to the floor and said mildly, “The studio door is designed to keep everything inside. It doesn’t work too well if the door is opened!”

“My apologies,” said Morrow, “I should have waited to be invited in.”

“I’m guessing you were trying out the Rainbow Creation Spell?” asked Gibbs.

Tony frowned once more, “I think I concentrated on the rain part too much.”

“You think?” said Gibbs.

“I do get some spells right,” said Tony who was suddenly embarrassed that he had failed so spectacularly in front of the Seer.

“I’m sure you do,” said Morrow soothingly, “And I’m sure both Master Jethro and I could tell you tales from our apprentice days that would make your hair stand on end.”

“I’ve already done that,” said Tony gloomily, “Lasted all day.”

Morrow kept a straight face as he considered Tony’s woes, “Anyway, keep up the good work. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know. I just came to see how you both were … but I can see that you’re busy and I’ve got an appointment … so I think I’ll be going now.”

“Fair passage on all your journeys,” said Gibbs.

“And a blessing on your endeavours,” replied Morrow.

As he began to climb the stairs, Tony’s quick hearing picked up the sound of laughter, but he decided not to draw his master’s attention to it but rather retreated with as much dignity as he could muster to his studio. Gibbs’ brows creased in puzzlement as he watched him go.

XXXXXX

A few days later, Tony picked up on a change in atmosphere in the basement. Gibbs was rarely what might be called _chatty,_ but he was even more silent than usual and barely replied to any of Tony’s questions.

“No clients today,” he announced at a breakfast he had only picked at.

“What?”

“What?”

“I meant to say, aren’t there going to be any visitors today, Master Jethro?”

“You heard me.”

“But why … we’re always open.”

“Not today. And if I don’t want to be open, then we won’t be. It’s none of your business.”

“Oh. No, of course not. Um, what shall I do?”

“Anything you want. Just do it quietly,” Gibbs stalked off to his bedroom leaving Tony gazing after him open-mouthed. Gibbs hardly ever went to his bedroom during the day.

Tony sat down at the worktable and tried to think what to do. He had a spell which he had nearly perfected and had hoped to show to Master Jethro that day, but he didn’t want to risk further experimenting and the possibility of making a noise. The studio was supposed to be soundproof, but Tony couldn’t help but suspect that Gibbs could hear everything that went on in the room.

Tony cleared away the breakfast things, played a quiet game of rolling a ball of wool for Nora and then decided he would read up on some more advanced spells. As always, the books tried to make it easy for Tony to read them, but he found his attention was wandering as he tried to make sense of Gibbs’ mood that day.

Perhaps, he thought, Master Jethro had finally tired of having an apprentice although he didn’t think there had been any suggestion of that in his recent behaviour. In fact, until that day, Gibbs had been nothing but encouraging towards Tony’s wish to learn and hadn’t seemed to be put off by his many mistakes. Gibbs had even allowed Tony to continue with the cooking – although, Tony reflected, that could perhaps be a source of irritation for Gibbs.

Tony brooded over the possibility that his apprenticeship might be coming to a premature end: he would miss life in the basement and was anxious about what his life outside would be like. Seer Morrow had said that if the apprenticeship was not a success he would have to go back to where he came from and that definitely alarmed Tony. It wasn’t that Tony wanted a birthday cake every day but he appreciated not being alone so much.

The memory of the birthday cake set off another train of thought. Tony remembered that on _his _birthday he had been downhearted and miserable, much as Master Jethro was that day. Perhaps the master was morose because nobody had remembered his birthday. Tony brightened as he realised he had a practical solution to the problem and he happily retreated to his studio.

Gibbs came silently to the worktable for lunch, possibly beginning to feel a little ashamed of his low mood. He stopped in puzzlement as he saw, on the table, a coffee cake with one lit candle on it.

“Happy birthday,” chorused Tony, “I only put one candle on because I didn’t know how old you are …”

“What …”

“And I’ve made the cake before,” said Tony hastily as he tried to interpret the look on Gibbs’ face, “So I wasn’t trying a spell you haven’t approved. And the candle was in the drawer … I didn’t make that …”

“It’s not my birthday,” said Gibbs, “Why the hell did you make a cake?”

Tony’s face fell as he realised that he’d worked things out wrong, “It’s just that … well, you were in … you weren’t … and you closed to visitors … and you went … I remembered that when it was _my_ birthday it made me feel sad … so I figured …”

“Well, you _figured_ wrong,” snapped Gibbs, “I’m not a 15-year-old kid! Mind your own damned business, can’t you!” He swept the cake off the table and stalked back to his room. Jasper bounded noiselessly down from the table and got into the bedroom just as the door slammed shut.

Tony sat at the table, looked at the ruined cake on the floor and tried to remind himself that DiNozzos didn’t cry. Nora crept up and butted at him in an attempt to provide comfort. Tony stroked her absently for a few seconds before getting up and sweeping the cake up and throwing it away.

“Come on, Nora,” he whispered before scooping her up and retreating to his own bedroom.

Some hours later, as Tony lay on his back staring at the ceiling trying to work out what to do and wondering what life would be like when Master Jethro kicked him out, there came a knock at his door. Part of him felt like ignoring the knock but he decided to face what was about to happen. He didn’t trust his voice to call _Come in,_ so he rolled off the bed and opened the door.

“We need to talk,” said Gibbs.

Tony nodded and followed Gibbs to the worktable where Jasper sat in his usual majestic solemnity.

“Sit.”

Tony nodded again and obeyed. He kept his eyes on the table as he awaited his fate.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” said Gibbs.

Tony raised his eyes in surprise but didn’t say anything.

“It isn’t my birthday …”

“I’m sorry … I mean, I know I’m not meant to apologise … but I am sorry. I just thought …”

“Yeah, you were figuring things out … ‘cos that’s what you do.”

“But I figured it out wrong,” said Tony sadly.

“Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Like I said, it’s not my birthday. But it is … was … Kelly’s birthday.”

“Kelly? Who’s Kelly?”

“My daughter.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter … oh …” Tony remembered that Gibbs had used the past tense in describing the birthday.

“Yeah. She died when she was about 8. She’d be about your age now.”

“That sucks,” said Tony inadequately.

“Her mom died at the same time. In an accident …”

Tony couldn’t think of even inadequate words this time and his head drooped as he realised the extent of his screw-up with the birthday cake.

Gibbs swallowed and continued, “And sometimes … well, usually … around this time of year I get a bit low … you know, I remember …”

Tony nodded sympathetically but still couldn’t think of any comforting words.

“But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” said Gibbs.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“OK.”

“So, are we OK?”

“Before I came here,” said Tony after a pause and a deep breath, “I didn’t have anyone who cared about me … not after Mom died. My family don’t really approve of magic … although I think that’s really because they don’t have any. And because money doesn’t buy it. So when they found out I had magic, they didn’t know what to do. And it started showing after my Mom died …”

“When you were 8,” said Gibbs softly.

“So I don’t think any of it was controlled. I didn’t know what I was doing. People were frightened.”

“Nobody asked for help?”

“I think they were ashamed. It was like I had some sort of illness, as if I was mad or something.”

“What did they do?”

“Senior has a big house. I had some rooms there. They used to bring me food and stuff. I had books and a TV. A chess set! So it was OK. I had everything I needed.”

“Except anyone to talk to?”

“Like I said, they were scared – of me and of what Senior might say. He just wanted me kept quiet and out of the way.”

“Didn’t people wonder where you were?”

Tony shrugged, “I think Senior told people that I’d gone to live with my Mom’s people in Britain.”

“And Nora? The one who was kind to you?”

“She used to stay and talk sometimes when she brought me my food or took my washing away. Not for long, because she was frightened. She brought me a plush cat that her kids had grown out of. It was the first present I’d been given since Mom died. She found the paternity spell for me when I asked about it.”

Gibbs swallowed against the sorrow of Tony’s story, “Seer Morrow seemed to know about Nora.”

Tony nodded, “I think she told someone in the Magical Council about me. She’d been fired, you see – for talking to me – so she had nothing to lose anymore. Seer Morrow came for me soon after she left.”

“And he brought you here.”

“I wanted to tell you … ‘cos even when you’re grumpy … being here is the best thing that ever happened to me,” said Tony looking at the table once more, “But I’ll understand if you want me to go.”

“I don’t want you to go … Tony, look at me … I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you’re sad,” said Tony bravely, “But you make lots of other people happy … you help them, you help _me_. Doesn’t that help … a bit?”

Gibbs stared at Jasper who stared impassively, albeit a little smugly, back, “I guess,” he said, “And it does help most days … just not every day. Understand.”

Tony nodded, “Does that mean that I’m staying?”

“Darn straight it does! You’ve still got 650 days of apprenticeship to go. I don’t let people go early, you know.”

“Thank you,” was all Tony could manage.

Gibbs summoned a smile, “I’m starving. Why don’t we order in? It’s been quite a day … and I figure we should open up early tomorrow after being shut today.”

Tony nodded, “And I’ve got a spell nearly ready to show you,” he said excitedly.

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Gibbs as he leaned forward to ruffle Tony’s hair in a rare gesture of affection.


	8. Chapter 8

Master Jethro, I seek admission to your halls,” said Seer Morrow formally.

“You are welcome and peace be on your sojourn,” replied Gibbs.

“I need to talk to you and to Tony,” said Morrow, “Is he in his studio?” Gibbs nodded. The Seer had learned his lesson and simply went to the door, knocked and called through, “Tony, it’s Seer Morrow. Can you come out, please?”

A moment or two later, Tony emerged, trying to hide his green hands. Morrow’s eyes twinkled but he didn’t comment.

“The Green Finger Horticultural Hortation proving tricky?” suggested Gibbs.

Tony nodded, “I’ll get there. In the end.”

“Tony, Jethro, I have something to tell you,” said Morrow in a serious tone.

“Go on then,” directed Gibbs.

“I’ve been reaching out to your family, Tony.” Tony’s face lost its colour and his eyes widened fearfully, “No, not your father,” said Morrow hastily, “No, your family in England.”

“Oh.”

“I spoke to your great uncle Clive. Clive Paddington,” said Morrow turning to Gibbs, “He’s Tony’s mother’s uncle. Tony, he was upset that he’d lost contact with your father and you, but he said that he understood that you were all upset when your Mom died … and he didn’t want to interfere. He didn’t know about the magic.”

“Do the Paddingtons have magic?” asked Gibbs sharply.

“Some do. He doesn’t think that Tony’s Mom did, but it is in the family.”

“So he’s not embarrassed by it?” asked Tony.

“By no means. He was distressed to learn that your father’s family disapproved …”

“I don’t think I know him,” said Tony.

“No, you wouldn’t. He said he visited when you were a baby … had plans to keep in touch when you were older … perhaps introduce you to your English family, but it never happened.”

“Oh. What’s he like?”

“He seems kind. And he’s interested in meeting you. But only if you want to, Tony.”

“I guess it would be OK. I mean, it might be cool,” said Tony who was obviously excited but wary at the same time.

“Jethro? Would you be willing for him to come here?”

“If Tony wants to meet him, sure. When?”

“Now, if you want. He’s upstairs, waiting to see if you’ll admit him.”

“Tony,” said Gibbs, “The Hand Restoration Remedy is in the blue book. Why don’t you take it into your studio and perform it? Should be straightforward. You don’t want to meet your uncle with green hands, do you?”

Tony nodded agreement and summoned the blue book before walking into the studio.

Gibbs turned to Morrow, “You sure about this, Tom? Is he OK?”

“He seems fine, Jethro. I’ve done my investigation and there’s nothing suspicious about him. He’s just someone who wants to look out for his great-nephew.”

“OK, if you’re sure. Bring him down.”

As they waited for Clive Paddington to arrive, Gibbs spoke to Tony, “Don’t worry … I’ve got your six. If you don’t like him, he won’t be staying. Understood?”

“Yes. Thank you, Master. And what’s my _six_?”

“I’ll explain later.”

At that moment, Seer Morrow entered the basement with a tall, distinguished looking man who didn’t look much like Tony except around the eyes. 

“Tony, this is your great uncle, Clive Paddington. Mr Paddington, this is Tony.”

Clive gazed at Tony for a moment or two and then extended his hand to be shaken, “I can’t tell you what a pleasure this is,” he said, “You know, you have a look of your mother.”

Tony took the hand but didn’t quite know what else to say apart from _Hello, Sir._

“And you must be Master Gibbs,” said Paddington, “I must thank you for the care you have given to Tony … I am most grateful.”

“It’s no trouble … most of the time,” said Gibbs with a wry look at Tony who managed to gaze back guilelessly.

“Let’s all sit down,” suggested Morrow, “And get to know one another.”

Gibbs looked slightly aghast at the prospect of such an activity, but it turned out that he and the Seer didn’t need to do much except listen as Tony and Clive chatted away.

“Why don’t you show your uncle around?” suggested Morrow once it was plain that the two were getting on well.

Tony jumped up and led Paddington into his studio. A few minutes later, they emerged, and Tony said to Gibbs,

“Master Jethro, is it OK if I take Mr Padd – I mean, Uncle Clive up to the yard? He wants to watch me shoot hoops.”

Gibbs nodded consent and watched as Tony led his newfound relative upstairs.

“They’re getting on well,” observed Morrow.

“Yes,” said Gibbs gloomily.

Morrow coughed in a way that suggested he was about to suggest something that he wasn’t sure Gibbs would approve of.

“Spit it out,” ordered Gibbs.

Morrow grinned at not having been able to deceive Gibbs, “Paddington wants to take Tony to the UK. For a vacation,” he added hastily, “He wants to introduce him to the rest of his family … to his heritage.”

“For how long?”

“Two – three months.”

“Three months!”

“Only with your permission, of course. The apprenticeship agreement takes priority and you are Tony’s master.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it would be good for him to go. You know, it’s good to have family,” said Morrow gently. Gibbs nodded stiffly but didn’t comment. “And it would be good for Tony to see something of the world. I don’t know if he’s told you what his life was like before …”

“He told me.” Gibbs didn’t expand on the reason Tony had told him.

“I’m glad; I hoped he would. So, you know that his life has been limited. I think it would be good for him to see more of life.”

“Hmph, I guess. But I won’t make him go if he doesn’t want to,” said Gibbs sternly.

A sweaty but happy and excited Tony soon appeared with a calmer but apparently also happy Clive Paddington in tow.

“I don’t understand the game,” confessed the Briton, “Basketball is not played as widely at home as it is here. Although my granddaughter is very adept at netball … Perhaps, Tony you would be able to share experiences?”

“That would be great,” he said, “When’s she coming to the US?”

“Ah,” said his uncle, “That brings me to something else. I wonder, my boy, if you would like to come for a holiday … a vacation … to the UK?”

“Excuse me?”

“The rest of the Paddington family is eager to meet you … and I would very much enjoy showing you where your dear mother was born and brought up.”

“I’d … that would be … but I can’t,” said Tony.

“Oh. Why can’t you?”

“I’ve got to be here. I’m Master Jethro’s apprentice … for 1000 days.”

Seer Morrow intervened, “I’ve already spoken to Master Jethro about that. He’s willing to let you go.”

“But …” Tony was clearly torn, “But what about Nora? She’d miss me.”

“Reckon she’d be OK,” said Gibbs gruffly.

“And the books? What about the books?”

“I had no idea you were such a scholar,” said Clive, “But don’t worry, I have an extensive library at my country home. I’m sure you’ll find something to interest you.”

Gibbs had a fleeting vision of the books in the Paddington library flying around Tony’s head, “Um, I’m sure we can work something out, Tony,” he said.

“How long would I go for?”

“I thought about ten to twelve weeks,” said Clive.

“What do you think, Tony?” asked Gibbs.

“I’d come back, wouldn’t I?” said Tony.

“Yep.”

“Promise?”

“You ever know me to say something I didn’t mean?”

Tony shook his head, “And … it’s OK to go?”

Gibbs put his hands on Tony’s shoulders and bent to look him in the eye, “Tony, do you want to go?”

Tony closed his eyes, much as he had all those months ago when making the decision about signing the apprenticeship agreement. “Yes,” he said as he opened them again, “Yes, I would.” The decision made, and reassurances given, Tony gave into his excitement and cheered, “I’m going to England!” he snatched up Nora and danced around the room.

NEXT DAY

“We’ll keep in touch through Seer Morrow,” said Paddington to Gibbs as they waited for Tony to make his final preparations. Gibbs nodded. “I’ll look after him,” promised Clive, “He’ll be fine. This will be good for him.”

“You sure you don’t want me to give you an Aviation Amulet? Make the journey simpler.”

“Thank you, but no. I have always enjoyed air travel and, although I have tried magical aids, I find I prefer to go at a more leisurely pace and have my whole body arrive at the same time. I fear magical travel always give me the sensation of my liver arriving an hour after the rest of me.”

Gibbs shrugged, “You haven’t used one of _my_ aids but suit yourself.”

“Say goodbye to Master Jethro,” said Clive as Tony emerged from his room, “I will await you in the garden … yard. Goodbye, Master Jethro … and thank you for entrusting Tony to me.”

Gibbs turned to look at Tony, “You can’t take her with you,” he said, pointing to Nora who was once again draped around Tony’s neck.

“I know,” said Tony in a slightly choked voice.

“I’ll look after her,” promised Gibbs.

“I know,” said Tony again. He peeled Nora off his neck, planted a quick kiss on her head and put her on the table. “Master … I will … you will let me come back, won’t you?”

“You’re always welcome back … but I’ll understand if you don’t want to come.”

“I’ll always want to come back,” insisted Tony.

“I’ve got something for you. Here …” Gibbs handed Tony a stone.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Homing Stone. It will always bring you here when you want to come.” Gibbs had decided that actions would say more to Tony than words.

Tony grasped the stone tightly, “Thank you …”

“Come here,” said Gibbs and he pulled Tony into a quick hug, “Fair passage on all your journeys,”

“And a blessing on all that you aspire to,” replied Tony shakily. And then, with a quick look around the basement, he ran lightly up the stairs and was gone.

XXXXXX

“The basement seems quieter without Tony, does it not?” said Ducky some weeks later, “Have you heard from the boy?”

“Off and on. He’s busy, having a great time. Turns out that he’s got five cousins his age. Two doting aunts and sporty uncles. They love him over there.”

“He’ll be back, Jethro. Never fear.”

“We’ll see, Duck. We’ll see.”

“Apart from anything else, it would be a shame if he stopped his training. From what you’ve let drop, he is likely to be a remarkable proponent of magic.”

“He could learn in the UK,” said Jethro who seemed determined not to be optimistic.

“But you have a high regard for his abilities, do you not? At the time of his accident, you were impressed by his _sensing_ of the evil of what had been lurking on Tobias.”

“Yeah. He’s a bright kid. Fornell told me that some of what he suggested about the reasons the bug was planted turned out to be right … helped them compile a psychological profile and find the bad guys. Think he wanted to recruit Tony there and then.”

“So, he could follow in your footsteps?” suggested Ducky cautiously.

“Those days are over,” said Gibbs firmly, “I like what I’m doing … I don’t want to go back to being an investigator.”

“Indeed … we all know what it cost you, Jethro. And there is no doubt that what you are doing now is a great service to the community. You can be proud of all that you do.”

“Maybe,” shrugged Gibbs.

“Hark, is that someone coming?” asked Ducky.

Seer Morrow entered the basement shortly afterwards and, after exchanging the formal greeting, said, “Any chance of a drink, Jethro? I’ve been in a committee meeting at the Magical Council all day and I’m … well, just let’s say, I’m in need of something.”

Gibbs summoned a tray of drinks and they each chose what they wanted.

“Good heavens,” said Ducky.

“What?” asked Gibbs, he followed Ducky’s gaze and said nonchalantly, “Oh yeah …”

Ducky had spotted Jasper and Nora entwined together in a basket set before the door to Tony’s studio.

“… oh yeah, happened just after Tony left. I figure they both missed him and needed company,” explained Gibbs.

“Jasper has been conquered,” said Morrow.

“Any word from Tony?” asked Gibbs casually.

“Not since I saw you last …”

“The lad will be home soon, won’t he?” asked Ducky.

“He might decide to stay,” said Gibbs emotionlessly, “He seems to have fitted in well.”

“Maybe,” said Morrow calmly. “Although it would be a shame to lose him. From your reports, Jethro he is a remarkable student.”

“He’s ready to move on to the next stage,” said Gibbs, “In fact, he’s already moved on, but I don’t think he’s realised.”

“Explain,” said Morrow.

“Well, the spells … they’re a bit like training wheels. And people with little magic always need them to control their magic. But the powerful people don’t need them after a while. The written words give them the principles but then they move on and don’t need them. When Tony told me about his childhood – how he was on his own so much … I figure that gave him a push. Because he was lonely, he used his powers to make friends with what was around him …”

“Ah,” said Ducky, “The books … and the chess set,” he laughed at the memory of his game with Tony.

“Yes. And I think he’s got his basketball in on the act as well to give him difficult shots to master. He didn’t have spells for that, but he just did it. And that’s unusual for someone of his age … or perhaps our training stops kids doing it, who knows?”

“And you think he’s doing something similar now?” asked Tom.

“You’ve seen it,” said Gibbs.

“I have?”

“The day of the flood,” prompted Gibbs.

“It was you who lifted us all up,” remembered Tom.

“Yep. Carry on …”

“But the water disappeared almost immediately. I thought you’d done that, Jethro. You mean it was Tony?”

“It was Tony. He just did it and I reckon that shows he’s ready to move on.”

“Then we must hope that he comes back,” said Ducky, “It would indeed be a pity for this country to lose such fine potential. And,” he added sadly, “We would all miss him tremendously.”

“To Tony,” Morrow raised his glass in a toast.

“To Tony,” chimed in the others.

The Seer, ever busy, soon had to leave and Ducky went with him. 

As they stood panting slightly at the top of the stairs, Ducky ventured to say,

“I believe that the stairs are much less steep than they were when Tony first took up residence, do you agree, Thomas?”

“Yes, I think you’re right. I hope it means that Jethro is emerging from his gloom. Well, good night, Ducky. Good to see you.”

“Indeed, likewise. Er, might I ask you a question?”

“It feels like you already did,” smiled Morrow.

“Tony and Jethro have turned out to be wonderfully _good_ for each other. As far as I can see, Tony was a lonely child lacking in confidence and Jethro was … well, we both know what Jethro was …”

“And?”

“As I said, they have been good for each other. And I wondered …”

“What, Ducky? What did you wonder?”

“I wondered whether, in your capacity as a _Seer_, you sensed – foresaw - that their meeting would be so good … so healing?”

“Ducky, you know I can never discuss something like that. What I _see_ has to remain a secret. Good night,” and with a suspicion of a wink, he was gone.

“Quite so,” said Ducky happily, “But I wonder,” he muttered a little more sombrely, “What you _see_ about Tony’s return?”

XXXXXX

Gibbs arose the next morning with the sense of dullness that had attended all his risings since Tony left. 

As he walked to the worktable, he realised with a slight shock that Jasper and Nora were not in the basket as usual.

“The Homing Stone worked,” came a familiar voice from the table.

Gibbs grinned at the sight of Tony sitting at the table, surrounded by the books and chess set and with Nora draped around his neck and Jasper sitting on his lap.

“You’re back,” said Gibbs stating the obvious.

“Still got more than 600 days of apprenticeship to go.”

“612,” said Gibbs, “You’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“I know.”

“Hop to then; first client is coming down the stairs.”

“Yes, Master.”

Gibbs went to get a cup of coffee but, as he went, he ruffled Tony’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done … it’s time to leave Tony to get on with his apprenticeship! Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in the story – the characters are back in their non-magical box.


End file.
